


Camshot

by puss_nd_boots



Series: Stargazer [8]
Category: Alice Nine
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Prostate Massage, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:18:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1524230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiroto has been writing songs again, and he and Shou decide to share the latest one with Tora and Saga over the webcam. Unfortunately, the camera gets left on longer than they thought, and they end up sharing a lot more than they bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Camshot

**Author's Note:**

> Eighth installment in my very first Alice Nine series, written in 2011. (This was the point where I started writing the whole series in past tense!)

_A blurry image of a bedroom. The image of a hand coming toward the camera, then darkness and a scraping noise as the lens is adjusted, then the hand moving away._

Hiroto stood back and surveyed his handiwork. The newly-purchased webcam was perched on the top of his laptop, and the test image showed the bedroom very clearly. Shou had said this room was best for their little impromptu webcast since the lighting was better than in the living room, where the lights set up less to illuminate the space than to optimize the picture on the huge, flat-screen TV set up at the far end. (The TV was further fine-tuned to optimize the three things it usually displayed - video games, anime and music. Shou’s living room was something of a geek paradise).

“Okay, I think we’re good to go,” Hiroto called, turning a couple more knobs on the top of the camera. This was going to take some getting used to - the controls were in completely different places than his old webcam. There was always, it seemed, a price to pay for an upgrade.

“Excellent,” Shou said, coming into the room. “Just tune your guitar, and I’ll get Saga on Skype, and we’ll be good to go.”

They’d finished another song, music and lyrics, earlier today. Shou had wanted to go over to Tora’s place to play it for him and Saga - since Saga had now, for all intents and purposes, moved into his boyfriend’s apartment - but Saga had proposed they just play it for them over Skype instead. Well, Shou could see where he was coming from. They’d been rehearsing hard for the new tour, they were all wiped, no need to go anywhere if they didn’t have to.

Besides, he and Hiroto had better uses for their remaining energy.

That was for later, though. Right now, Hiroto was tuning his guitar, humming the new tune to himself. He was glad to have gotten another creative burst, after his muses had been temporarily stifled by recent events. Shou had written the lyrics to this one rather quickly, too, and they were damn good.

And at least this time, the ideas were coming at a decent hour of the night, rather than the muses showing up when he was trying to sleep, whacking him over the head with a sledgehammer and saying, “Hello, Hiroto, you think you’re going to sleep? WRONG! You’re going to write this tune we’re going to feed to you! And if you think you’re going to get away from us, you’ve got another thing coming, because we’re going to make it play over and over in your brain until you’re ready to bang your head into the desk until it splinters into toothpicks!”

Muses didn’t care if you had a DVD mixing session the next day, or a boyfriend whose own muses seemed to live on a more humane schedule. They were the cosmic equivalent of those bullies who waited to ambush you at the school gate and steal your lunch money.

By the time he was ready, Shou had the computer screen displaying Saga sitting in the computer chair and Tora perched on a kitchen chair drawn up next to him, with Chiken curled up in his lap. “Hi, guys!” Shou said. “You’re looking pretty comfortable.”

“You’re looking pretty comfortable yourselves,” Saga retorted. “Do you always rehearse in the bedroom?”

Hiroto swallowed hard - that statement could definitely be taken two ways, and he wasn’t sure which one Saga meant. When dealing with the band’s resident pervert, it could be either-or. He glanced over at Shou - who, fortunately, decided to take the high road. “We thought we’d give a special backdrop to the new song.”

“I’d like to know just what kind of song it is, then, if it‘s being played in a bedroom.” Saga was baiting them, of course. He doubted they would write anything with their intimate details in it - but, then again, Shou had written “Kiss Twice, Kiss Me Deadly,” which he strongly suspected was inspired by his early encounters with Hiroto.

“Let’s see what you came up with,” Tora said, leaning back in his chair, petting his cat. Hiroto was starting to get a “buh?” look on his face, and when that happened, it was time to put the brakes on his boyfriend’s perversion.

Besides, Tora had better uses for Saga’s hentai mindset. That was for later, though.

Feeling grateful for the reprieve from the teasing, Hiroto strummed the strings of his guitar, starting to play the new melody. When Shou chimed in, singing the words he’d written that morning, Hiroto felt his heart swell. He remembered the conversation they’d had in the yakinuku house - a seeming eternity ago - about being “musically intimate.” This, now, was the result. He had a very, very good feeling about what they’d been creating recently, and he hoped the others did as well.

When they finished, Hiroto looked up at the computer screen. “So?” he said. “What did you think?”

Saga sat, deep in thought. Hiroto was definitely on a creative roll lately, and what he was producing had a maturity and depth unlike anything he’d done before. Love was agreeing with him, it seemed.

“I like,” he said. “We’re probably going to want a much faster arrangement, but the basics? They’re all there. Can you send me an mp3? I want to play around with it a little.”

Hiroto beamed inwardly as the four musicians continued to discuss the song, possible tempos, where the guitar and drum solos were going to go - Tora said he was envisioning a riff for his solo already - and finally, deciding to present it and all their ideas for it to Nao the next day. His new work was going over great. He felt like he was reaching a new stage of his songwriting, a level he never had before - just like Saga had done with the songs for Gemini.

And just like Saga had thought earlier, Hiroto felt that maybe love was agreeing with him.

Once they felt they‘d taken the discussion and analysis as far as they could at this point, Shou said, “Okay, why don’t we call it a night, then, and we’ll take this up tomorrow?”

“You’re on,” Saga replied. “Good work, Hiroto.”

“Thanks,” Hiroto said. “Night!” And he reached up and pressed the shutoff button on the webcam.

Or, rather, where the shutoff button was on his old webcam. Unbeknownst to Hiroto, what he’d actually pressed was the zoom in button.

He took off the guitar and leaned it against the bureau, stretched, and turned to Shou. “I think that went over pretty well,” he said.

Shou gave him one of those million-megawatt smiles, the kind that Hiroto secretly nicknamed the Destroyer of Fangirls, and brushed the back of his hand over his lover’s forehead. “Pretty well? They loved it. You’re as brilliant as you’re beautiful, you know that?”

Hiroto found himself blushing a little again. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “I just write songs, that’s all. I don’t think of myself as brilliant.”

“How about beautiful, then?” Shou said. “Because that’s how I see you.” On every level. Hiroto had been graceful and strong even during the toughest of times. He’d been the fandom’s rock when they needed one most.

He’d been Shou’s rock, too.

Hiroto laced his fingers through Shou‘s. “What if I told you that you were the one who was beautiful?”

“Then I’d kiss you.” And Shou leaned toward Hiroto, bringing their lips mere inches apart, but not quite closing the gap, leaving just enough space to tease.

Hiroto was going to answer “Why don’t you, then?” but decided it was best to dispense with words and just get to action, and he moved in for the last few inches. Once their lips came together, there was no doubt whatsoever what was going to happen next. Hiroto leaned closer in to Shou, opening his lips slightly, teasingly, inviting his lover to take it that next step further. His fingers tugged at the buttons of Shou’s shirt, starting to unfasten them.

Shou took the hint very well. His tongue plunged into Hiroto’s mouth, feeling the familiar, welcome wet velvet, one hand reaching up to run over the now-close-cropped hair (he did miss the additional softness, but he also loved the way this new haircut made Hiroto look more mature). The other was tugging Hiroto’s shirt out of his waistband, sliding up under it, up the flat expanse of stomach to a nipple.

The men’s mouths broke apart, and Hiroto rubbed his cheek against Shou’s hair, panting heavily as those skilled fingers caressed the little nub. They’d been lovers long enough now that they knew each other’s bodies, knew just what to touch, and how, and for how long.

But there were still frontiers they hadn’t explored, and Shou knew very well what the biggest one was. They were going to take a step in that direction tonight, one that he felt he was finally ready to take.

“I want to try something new tonight, love,” he said, breathlessly, his fingers gently squeezing the nipple - just as Hiroto took his earring in his teeth and gave it a tug. The result was that both boys let out a low groan of pleasure.

Meanwhile, Saga had decided to leave Skype up, just in case one of his other friends wanted to get hold of him. He was primarily engaged in reading his E-mail now, sifting through spam and the kind of offers one got when one reached their position in the music business (they were about to leave on a major tour, did anyone really think he had time to produce ten new bands and endorse twenty new products?) when a noise made him stop in his tracks.

It was definitely a moan, of a sexual nature. Good Lord, did he accidentally download porn spyware? He could just hear Nao’s voice in his head saying, “You know, that kind of thing wouldn’t happen if you had a Mac.”

He began clicking through the windows on his screen, looking for the culprit, and that’s when he realized the window from Shou and Hiroto’s video chat was still open, and still transmitting, and definitely showing something other than the two of them singing and playing. In fact, it was showing a naked-except-for-his-underwear Shou peeling off Hiroto’s shirt and leaning over to suck on the guitarist’s neck as he started to unfasten his pants.

“Holy . . .” Saga started to yell, then slammed a hand over his mouth, stopping himself. He didn’t want the lovebirds to know he was watching. That would end their little session right away, wouldn’t it? His first impulse was to do the right thing, to just hit quit and get out of Skype and go back to what he was doing.  
Instead, he found himself muting his microphone, eyes glued to the picture in front of him.

In Shou’s bedroom, the men were naked now, and Hiroto was stretched on his back, eyes closed and lips parted as Shou licked his way down his chest, teasing a nipple a little with his tongue, then looking up at Hiroto with an angelic smile. He lowered his head, licking faster now, and Hiroto panted raggedly, letting out a loud moan as Shou started to suck on the bud.

“That feels so good,” he murmured. “Oh, yes, Shou . . .”

Shou raised his head with another teasing smile. “What feels good, love?” he said. “Tell me.” And he lowered his head again, wrapping his lips around the bud, but not sucking until Hiroto told him what he wanted to hear.

“Your mouth,” Hiroto panted. “Your mouth and your tongue, the way you suck and lick . . .”

Shou sucked at him, letting his tongue flick over the bud, and Hiroto cried out. “Yes! Yes, like that!”

“Mmm, do you like this, too?” Shou said, reaching down and running his fingers along his lover’s hardness, brushing over the tip like he knew Hiroto liked.

“Ahhh!” Hiroto gasped. “Yes! Yes, I love feeling your fingers on me, touching me . . .”

“Where?” Shou lifted his fingers, again pausing in the action until Hiroto said the right thing.

“On my cock,” Hiroto replied. “All over my cock, especially at the top . . .”

“Mmm, here?” And Shou caressed the head, bringing about a loud yelp from his lover.

“Yes!” Hiroto cried. “Yes, just like that!”

“Do you like this, too?” Shou slid his fingers all the way down Hiroto’s shaft, caressing the root where it joined his body, keeping his eyes on his lover’s face with that same teasing smile.

Hiroto’s reply was another loud moan and pushing his hips forward. “Yes, yes, and on my balls, too. . .”

Hiroto usually wasn’t so blunt about talking about his body and its needs - in fact, he was usually shy about such things, despite the fact he could perform hip-thrusting fanservice in front of the fangirls. But when it was just him and Shou . . .

Or so he thought. On the other side of the computer, their audience of one was enjoying this immensely. Saga had been in bed with Shou himself many times before he finally committed to Hiroto, but he’d never seen him being quite this . . . forward. Or experimental. He watched as he teased and caressed, listened as Hiroto gasped out his pleas to be touched.

It was the hottest goddamn thing he’d ever seen in his life. Commercial porn had nothing on these two. He knew he probably should feel embarrassed or ashamed, watching two friends in an intimate moment like this . . .

But this was Saga. He had little shame to begin with. And besides, Shou was a former lover of his, and Hiroto hadn’t been in his bed, but at least he’d performed a lot of fanservice with him.

He was hardening quickly. So quickly that when Shou began to caress Hiroto’s balls, and Hiroto moaned in return, telling Shou how good the touch on his sensitive flesh felt, he unfastened his pants and thrust his hand inside, grabbing himself and stroking.

The resulting moan made Tora look up from his PSP. “Hey!” he said. “Why are you doing that yourself when I’m here to do that for you?” He saved his game and stood up, walking over to his lover. Saga looking at cyberporn? It wasn’t something the bassist usually did - in fact, Saga was fond of saying sex was something he’d rather do than watch .

And then, he saw what was on the screen. Or rather, who. Was it? No, it couldn’t be. He’d known Shou for years, and while he was an exhibitionist on stage, in the bedroom was another matter. He should know - he was the first man Shou had ever slept with, a fact only the two of them knew.

“Is that . . .” he said. Saga nodded yes. “Do they know?” A shake of the head no. “Can they hear us?” Another head-shake.

Tora reached into his pocket, where he kept a bottle of just-in-case lube. He was very glad he’d had such foresight, though he hadn’t exactly counted on an occasion like this coming up. “Stand up,” he said, “and lean over so we both can see.” They were both going to enjoy this.

In the bedroom, Shou was also reaching for a bottle of lube in his nighttable drawer. He hadn’t really used it since he’d been exclusively with Hiroto, except for slicking hands or making frottage easier.

The idea of having all-the-way, penetrative sex with Hiroto was different than with any other guy. He’d bottomed to Tora, both topped and bottomed with Saga, penetrated or been penetrated by a couple of other men. It was all casual, of course.

There was nothing casual about the idea of penetration with Hiroto. It seemed . . . bridal. The consummation of a marriage. He was going to save their first “all-the-way” for a very special occasion, and he knew what that occasion was going to be.

But for now, he was going to work up to that. Hence, the lube.

He leaned over and kissed Hiroto’s lips, letting his tongue caress the other man’s, then pulled back, holding up the bottle. “Hiroto,” he said, “I said I wanted to try something different tonight.”

Hiroto saw the bottle, and the significance of it clicked in his mind immediately. Lube meant penetration. He hadn’t pressed for it, knew that their lack of going “all the way” had probably been related to Shou’s earlier commitmentphobia.

Besides, he liked what they were doing so far, and didn’t want to give any of that up. And his early experiences with anal intercourse - he’d had a boyfriend when he was with his pre-Alice Nine group - hadn’t exactly been anything to write home about. They’d been painful and awkward.

Not that he didn’t think Shou, an experienced man, would be a lot better at it than a virginal teenager, and that Shou, who loved him, wouldn’t take good care of him and make sure he got as much pleasure and as little pain as possible.

Shou saw how Hiroto was eying the lube. “Not everything,” he said. “At least, not tonight. But I want you to feel something . . .” He opened the bottle and poured it over his fingers. “Has anyone ever given you a prostate massage before?”

Hiroto blinked. Well, that was a new concept. “No,” he said, slowly.

“I’m going to show you what that is, then,” Shou said, gently, before leaning over to kiss Hiroto’s lips again. “Now, just relax.”

Hiroto closed his eyes, bringing his lips to Shou’s again and willing his body to relax. He spread his legs, lifting his hips a little . . . this was what Shou wanted, wasn’t it? Because “prostate massage,” no doubt, meant “fingers up ass.” There’d be no reason for the lube otherwise.

Meanwhile, “fingers up ass” was precisely what was happening on the other side of the computer. Saga was bent over, hands clutching the desk, breathing in long and deep as Tora prepared him, two fingers sliding into the bassist’s hot channel. He groaned a little as the digits started to move, scissoring gently to open him up.

So lost in pleasure was he that his mind wasn’t quite digesting a vital piece of information that had just been put before him - that Shou and Hiroto hadn’t gone all the way yet. This was, in fact, their first time doing anything anal - and they’d been a couple since Budokan.

“You’re eager,” Tora said as he slid in a third finger. “I should get the lovebirds to perform like this for you more often.”

Saga wanted to say that Shou and Hiroto, especially Hiroto, would be mortified if they knew they were accidental porn stars. But all that came out was a moan of pleasure - because Tora was right, Saga was eager, and hot, and horny as hell.

Meanwhile, Shou began to gently press the finger inside Hiroto, and Hiroto drew in a deep breath. It wasn’t particularly painful. It wasn’t particularly pleasurable, either. It just felt weird, like something that wasn’t supposed to be there - no different than his previous experiences with this.

Hiroto had to admit a bit of disappointment.

“How is it?” Shou said, pushing in a little further, watching his lover’s face for any discomfort.

“I don’t know,” Hiroto said, truthfully. “It’s not awful, but . . .”

“Not great, either?” Shou bent over, kissing Hiroto’s lips and reaching down, trailing the fingers of his other hand lightly over his cock. “Just stay relaxed . . . I’m going to feel around.”

Hiroto did what he was told, and felt the finger move, pushing deeper, and it just kept feeling weird, especially as it stretched him a little. Well, this certainly wasn’t like the yaoi mangas he’d sneaked looks in at bookstores, when the uke went into throes of ecstasy the moment his bottom was penetrated with anything. He knew some men weren’t built for this kind of pleasure, and maybe he was one of them. Maybe he and Shou should just go back to . . .

And then, Shou touched a spot that sent a lightning bolt of pleasure through Hiroto’s body, a sharp, sweet jolt that ran from his ass to his fingers and toes and nipples and lips. He cried out, his body arching upward. “That! There! Do that again!”

Shou smiled, relieved. He’d found it. He was beginning to be afraid he wouldn’t, and if he couldn’t give Hiroto pleasure this way, well, then, Hiroto probably wouldn’t be open to the idea of full penetration, would he? “This?” he said, gently rubbing the spot again - and watching Hiroto arc gracefully off the mattress, eyes tightly shut, full lips open in a throaty cry, skin breaking out in a sheen of sweat.

“Please!” he cried. “Please, give me more . . .”

Shou began to caress the spot in little circles, murmuring to him in his low, sexy purr. “That feels good, doesn’t it, my love? Like nothing you’ve ever felt before . . .”

Hiroto barely heard him. He was so lost in the pleasure, he wouldn’t have been aware of a dozen people barging into their bedroom. He writhed and wriggled and rubbed that magic spot against Shou’s finger, he tossed his head from side to side and moaned and panted and cried his lover’s name out, he ran the fingers of one hand over his own torso, caressing a nipple.

And Saga was getting one hell of an eyeful as he felt Tora’s cock push into him from behind, the sight of Hiroto hot and sweaty and flushed and writhing (so much for innocent little Pon), of Shou flushed with passion himself, eyes half lidded and lips moistly parted, cock hard and pressed against his stomach as his finger thrust into Hiroto’s body.

This coupled with the sensation of his own lover’s hardness plunging into him, filling him, of Tora’s chest pressed against his back, his lover’s hot breath on his neck and ear . . . Oh, God, he wasn’t going to last long, and he didn’t care. He was having sex and watching sex at the same time, both voyeur and participant, so deliciously forbidden that the very idea of it was making him moan all the more.

Hiroto, meanwhile, wouldn’t have cared if he knew he was being watched, because he was thrusting fully against Shou’s finger now, his voice just a series of raw cries, the pleasure flooding and flooding him in such intense waves that he thought he was going to explode.

Then suddenly, Shou leaned over and there was the feeling of lips wrapping around him, of a hot mouth surrounding and sucking on his aching cock. The man’s last reserves of control broke, and Hiroto nearly screamed as the most intense orgasm he’d ever felt roared through him, and he arced off the bed again, thrusting into Shou’s mouth as he released himself.

Finally, he collapsed to the sheets in a panting, moaning, sweating heap, barely feeling Shou’s finger gently slide out of him, then his lover’s lips on his. “You were so beautiful just now,” Shou murmured in a throaty purr.

Hiroto couldn’t form words. He wanted to say I love you, wanted to say thank you, wanted to say that he wanted to do this again and again and again. But all he could do was wrap his arms around Shou, and pull their bodies together, and let out a sigh.

Saga, meanwhile, watched Hiroto climax, saw him writhe and heard him scream, and it all was enough to touch off his own orgasm, thrusting back hard against Tora and feeling a strike against his own prostate, flooding him with white heat as he poured his essence over the fingers that were wrapped around his cock. The climax was long and intense and delicious and at its peak, he had a brief fantasy of the other two in bed with him and Tora, the four of them all wrapped up in each other, hands and mouths and cocks everywhere.

As he sagged toward the desk, he heard Tora cry out as his own ecstasy overtook him, and he pushed himself backward to meet his lover’s final thrusts before Tora collapsed atop him, panting. They kissed, not moving, despite their awkward position. A little discomfort was always overwhelmed by a warm and fuzzy afterglow.

Back at the other apartment, Hiroto was starting to slowly return to reality. He opened his eyes, rolled over toward his lover and kissed him. And now, he could find the words. “Shou . . . I love you . . .”

“I love you, too. There’s more where that came from, beloved. I’m going to do that as much as you want.” And he knew if Hiroto enjoyed that, he’d really enjoy it when they had full intercourse.

But that was still down the line. Right now, they were just going to enjoy this moment..

Hiroto’s fingers trailed down Shou’s body until they found the still-full erection. “Shou . . . you .. . .”

Shou kissed Hiroto’s lips. “Don’t worry about me. This was for you.”

“But I can’t let you stay like that. I have to . . .”

A sudden idea passed through Shou’s mind. He reached for the lube again. “Roll over,” he said, “and get up on all fours.” When Hiroto did what he asked, he took the lube and began pouring it into the cleft of the guitarist’s beautiful bottom.

Hiroto was confused. He was going to take him? Now? After Hiroto had already come? “What are you . . .”

“Still not going to go all the way,” Shou said, positioning himself so he was leaning over Hiroto, his erection pressed against his bottom - but not at an angle for penetration. “Just going to do this . . .”

And he began to move, rubbing himself back and forth inside the cleft, feeling the firm flesh of Hiroto’s bottom caress him. He moaned, imagining how it would be when they went that one step further, when he was fully encased and surrounded in Hiroto’s tight heat.

But for now, he was thrusting against his flesh, feeling the friction and Hiroto’s damp skin and the motion as the other man began to thrust back against him, the sound of Hiroto’s voice murmuring that he loved him so much, that he wanted him to feel pleasure, too . . .

Shou thrust faster, and harder, the pleasure bolstered by the mental pictures of what he’d just seen, of Hiroto lost in waves of ecstasy, and finally, he cried out himself, a near-scream of Hiroto’s name as the pleasure burst through him and his seed spilled onto Hiroto’s ass.

He fell forward, sagging against him, and they tumbled to the bed together, laughing and kissing and snuggling and just loving every moment, every second they were together.

Saga and Tora watched lazily, both still leaning over the desk, still wrapped up in the afterglow. But that ecstatic fog was lifting a little - enough that the full significance of what they’d seen finally dawned on Saga.

“If that was the first time Shou had his finger up Hiroto’s ass,” he said. “that means they haven’t . . .”

Tora kissed Saga’s neck. “Don’t interfere this time, babe,” he said. “This last little bit, Shou’s going to have to work out for himself. You’ve done enough.”

“I wasn’t thinking of interfering,” Saga said. Then, a pause. “Well, maybe a little.”

But that would mean letting on to the lovebirds that they’d watched them, and he sure as hell didn’t want to do that, and wreck the experience for them.

It had been one hell of a night for them all.

* * *  
Every once in awhile, Shou’s cats would get overly curious about the array of plugged-in gadgets around his geek paradise of an apartment. They’d tip over video game consoles (fortunately, both Wiis and Playstations are built tough), knock remotes and iPods off tables, and knock plugs from walls.

Fortunately for Hiroto’s sanity, one of his lover’s feline friends made his way into the bedroom while they were sleeping and knocked the webcam plug out, so he was spared the embarrassment the next morning of finding it still turned on and realizing they’d beamed a lot more than their new song into Tora and Saga’s place.

When they got to the studio the next day, and presented the new song to Nao (who fell all over it, and thought it was brilliant, and also loved Tora and Saga’s suggestions), Saga and Tora acted like everything was perfectly normal, with no veiled remarks or smirking. Hiroto and Shou had no idea.

Of course, they also had no idea Saga had turned on his video recording software at the beginning of their webcast, to capture the song, and had forgotten to turn it off afterward, thus creating a certain clip that would get a lot of replay at La Casa de Tiger and Butterfly.

Because, of course, anything worth seeing once is worth seeing again.


End file.
